


be mine, be kind, or be cruel to me

by laughs_in_distortion



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Angst, Bets & Wagers, Boss/Employee Relationship, Choking, Cruelty, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Do Not Archive (The Magnus Archives), Dubious Consent, Dysfunctional Relationships, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Enemy Lovers, Love/Hate, M/M, Manipulation, Mind Games, Mocking, Mutually Unrequited, Ocean Metaphors, Pining, Power Imbalance, Sadism, Self-Destruction, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred, Sexual Tension, The Lonely Fear Entity (The Magnus Archives), This started as a crack premise and quickly got out of hand, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-23 12:54:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30055779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laughs_in_distortion/pseuds/laughs_in_distortion
Summary: Martin doesn't know why he keeps crawling back to Elias, especially since he can tell the person Elias actually wants is someone else entirely.Maybe it's just nice to be wanted at all.orElias likes all of his passing amusements. He might just enjoy the experience of one more than the others, but well, who doesn't prefer returning to something familiar, in the end?
Relationships: Elias Bouchard/Peter Lukas, Martin Blackwood/Elias Bouchard
Comments: 1
Kudos: 14





	be mine, be kind, or be cruel to me

Elias doesn't actually expect Peter to show his face at the Institute. 

He hates it, he hates being there, he hates the way he feels the scalding gaze of Elias' god crawling all over him.

That's what he told him once. Elias didn't even have to search for it. Peter can have such a loose tongue with enough whisky in him, and with enough of Elias' skin on his.

"A moment?" Peter says, as if he's not materialized without preamble or invitation.

Not that he needs either. 

"Of course," Elias replies. His eyes roam Peter, and, oh, how he never changes. The grey has spread further across his beard and hair like a creeping rot, but that's about all. Elias is sure this is the outfit he last saw him in too.

The place where Elias's ring tore into his cheek has long since healed up, but the impression still lingers. 

"Always a pleasure to see you, Peter." Elias says. "I must say, the appearance is not unwelcome, but it _is_ unexpected." The mocking ghost of a smile dances across his mouth. "Here to pay up?" 

"No." Peter says. "I have another wager for you." 

"Oh?" Elias hums. "I hope it's better than your last one. That was so dreadfully dull I almost considered blocking your number." 

"I'd still find you."

"And I, you." Elias leans in. "Why don't you tell me about your latest fixation, Peter." 

Peter leans in a little further himself. His dark eyes hold a vast horizon of cold and nothingness. The sensation clings to Elias like a favorite coat. "Maybe after you tell me about yours." 

Peter's breath is cold, like the chill lives in his lungs. The collar of his jacket brushes Elias' throat and it's like touching ice to his skin. 

Martin chooses that moment to walk into the room.

Elias isn't sure if Peter knows what he gets up to when he's not there. Why would he? 

Well then, why _wouldn't_ he?

Peter's face betrays nothing as he half-acknowledges Martin's existence. "I suppose you have things to attend to." 

"Just." Elias says.

Martin catches sight of Peter as he passes and Elias swears it's on purpose, because after he turns the corner he's gone.

Martin still has plenty of time to drink in Peter with his eyes as he apologizes for intruding, and Peter dismisses it in a way that's both polite and yet doesn't quite imply it's not Martin's fault. 

As Peter leaves, Martin's gaze follows him. Elias watches his surprised expression slowly twist into something else. Martin's soft brown eyes grow oh so cold, and his jaw sets firmly. 

A smile spreads across Elias' face.

* * *

"I want to talk." Martin said, crowding him in a way that is so familiar and so thrilling and so unlike Martin at all. " _Now._ " 

Elias schools his expression into something much less interested than he feels. "By all means, Martin." He smiles pleasantly. "What's on your mind?" 

From this close he can feel the warmth of Martin's staggered breath on his cheek, and pick out the exact line of his tightened jaw. 

"Who...who _was_ that?" Martin asks, as if he doesn't already know in every way that matters. 

"Oh, the man from earlier you mean?" Elias' pleasant smile twists a little as he says, "Peter Lukas."

The look on Martin's face changes, as if he's been expecting a blow but still wasn't prepared to receive it.

Elias continues, as if carrying on a professional discussion. He knows how much Martin hates that. "He doesn't stop in much, but his family has been a very generous donor to the Institute-" 

"Oh, cut the shite," Martin snaps, making something electric dance through Elias' veins.

 _My, my, isn't someone feeling_ bold _today_? 

"Oh? Is there something else you wanted to _discuss,_ Martin?" Elias says, barely bothering a superficial show of ignorance.

He Sees what's flitting around in Martin's head, not that he has to look. Scraps of memory - the ocean getaways. Dressing him up and playing at insults. The _goading_. 

The goading, at least, Martin thought was meant just for him.

Finally he understands, or has begun to, and the renewed clarity eats at his ribs like rats. 

The truth hurts, as they say.

Martin falters, likely because there's no uncomplicated way to word what he wants to ask. 

Elias is about to speak when he settles on something.

"Did...did you just _pick me_ because I sort of _look like him_?" Elias has never heard that tone come from Martin and it makes his heart jump in the most delightful way. 

Elias laughs, laughs in the way he knows pisses Martin off the most - condescending, like he's indulging a very irritating, bratty child. Like his feelings mean nothing, and oh isn't Martin ever so concerned with _feelings_? 

Elias smiles and makes sure it communicates with exacting nuance that he knows something Martin doesn't, and yet somehow Martin is just too stupid to put the pieces together. Which, really, he is. 

The look in Martin's eye speaks to years of swallowed anger and repeated undermining and humiliation. Elias wonders if he'll strangle him right now. Like Peter would have. 

Maybe with a little prodding. 

"I must admit, it was a factor," he lets his eyes wash over Martin's body, lingering a little too long. "But there's a little more to it than that." 

"Like _what_ ," Martin growls, his teeth scraping. Martin toys with others, and yet doesn't like being toyed with, and it's oh so amusing. 

He doesn't understand. Not just the forces he's caught up in. He doesn't understand himself either. 

He can't feel the frost collecting in his hair, the cold swallowing his fingertips. He can't smell the bitter ocean salt. 

His mouth is full of deep, drowning, choking breaths of his own isolation, and he doesn't recognize the taste. 

_You smell like him, sometimes_. Elias wants to say. _It's what makes you convincing. I taste the Lonely on you._

Instead Elias leans into his ear and whispers, "I'll see you after work, then." 

He scrapes his teeth across Martin's ear and he shudders, and grabs Elias's shirt in his hands. He twists it in his fingers, his teeth bared.

Elias smirks. "Now, whatever are you going to do, Martin Blackwood?" 

But he Knows.

He can _See_ _it_.

_Go on. Do it._

Martin doesn't, and Elias walks away, disappointed. 

  
  
  
  



End file.
